Britain will fall
by A Girl With An Idea
Summary: The death of a child causes the whole of Britain to go under turmoil. It's Sherlock job to solve the case with just his phone and the knowledge of yesterdays news. Will he solve the case before another murder occurs?
1. Chapter 1

I would appreciate your comments that you give, it really helps me. I don't own anything, and if I did, that would be super. But life is mean like that. Enjoy!(Or don't enjoy, I don't decide)

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"JOHN! GET DOWN!" Sherlock shouted as he bent down to the ground. Gunshots could be heard above my head as I started to crawl towards Sherlock. The voices in the air were filled with anger and sorrow as people from all corners of the streets were shouting abuse. The sky was completely dark, but was interfered by a flickering light at the end of the street from a car which was engulfed in flames. All around, I could see the innocent and the guilty; the innocent trying to find safety and the guilty destroying it. This was madness compared to Afghanistan; more people filled the streets as more firebombs and bricks were being thrown.

Just this morning, a case of a murdered child was put in the archives because it was "unsolvable". It took two years to try and find the missing girl, and when they did, they had terrible results. She was only 4 years old; her life barely started. They couldn't get DNA or any traces of the killer. After 6 months of trying, the case was closed. After this was reported on every news channel in Britain, it caused riots in London all the way to Edinburgh and back again.

"Are you okay?!" I asked over the bombardment.

"We have to get to safety!" he shouted as he pointed to an alley full of civilians "We have to get there!"

"When?" I asked as I crouched ready to jump and run. You could see the SWAT team marching down the high street as masked criminals chucked homemade bombs at them.

"NOW!" Sherlock shouted as we got up and ran towards the pathway, dodging flaming cars and shattered glass. Everyone was running in the opposite direction, so running to safety was harder than we thought. Sherlock was the first to reach the alley, I still had far to get to it. I turn my head all around to see the terror of what London has become. Nearly all the streets are copies of this; some more quiet and some more chaotic. Another bomb was set off beside me, which made me fall to the ground, leaving me with a ringing sound in my ears. I thought if I closed my eyes tighter, the noise and possibly all this insanity would go away.

I was pulled up off the ground by Sherlock and lead towards the alley where I was met by people of all ages, even children.

"Is he alright?" someone asked.

"That bomb was pretty close!" said another.

Sherlock ignored all of these comments and turned to face me. He gently slapped my face, trying to get me back into present day.

"John, you're an army doctor. Are you concussed?" he asked.

"Of course I'm not!" I said as I slightly pushed him away "I have been in worst,"

"Comparing this to Afghanistan, are you?" he said with a smirk on his face. Now was not the time to joke around.

"What I do know is that this isn't a safe place for us, we need to get to somewhere safer, with more space," I said as I poked my head outside of the backstreet. I could see groups like us wondering on around, looking for safety. People were still in their flats, looking down at the street with horror on their faces. It was actually amazing how the death of a little girl and a scheming murderer could cause Britain to fall. Just as I returned to the middle of the group, I got a text message from Lestrade.

**Where are you? **

**In an alley in Dean Street. Greg, there are kids with us. Where are you? JW**

**I am still at Scotland Yard. You have to get as far away from there as possible; Dean Street is practically covered with car bombs going off. **

I showed this text to Sherlock so that he could back me up on my idea. He nodded in approval. I felt my phone vibrate in my hand, indicating a new text message.

**There is a warehouse on Hollen Street, get there and we will try and send someone to get you. And by the way, it doesn't look like these riots are dying down soon. It's happening everywhere.**

The screams from the high street started to get louder and louder. I shoved my phone back into my pocket and poked my head around the wall which lead to the chaotic street. To the left of me was the SWAT team trying to defend their shields from the madness and to the left of me was cars which had been broken into, set in flames or cars which have crashed into walls.

"Hollen Street," I said as I headed back towards the group "We have to get there, police will be waiting there,"

"Who put you in charge?" asked a man who pushed his way into the middle of the crowd "Why should you be responsible for where we go?"

"Look, I have seen worst. When I came here and found you guys, it looked like you didn't have a plan. I have a plan, and if you're not up for it, then that's fine by me," I said. For some reason, I felt like I was back in Afghanistan, treating the wounded. I felt as If I was actually in charge of protecting these people. They are all innocent, and this place; an alley that is surrounded by terror, wasn't a place for anyone, let alone children. All of them were pretty much silent, except for Sherlock, whose footsteps could be heard over the sound of the bombs. He was stuck in his mind palace; he didn't have time to think of the people's safety, he knew what he had to do. He had to solve the case. He had to solve it, or else this Britain would be stuck in a looping time bomb of anarchy.

"Who's with me?"


	2. Chapter 2

A woman who was cradling her child in her arms walked up to me with a confused state, "Did you say your name was John?" I nodded, "Even if we were to get there, how would we?".

"Yeah!" said a man who was still in his nightwear clinging onto a cricket bat, "It's not exactly safe out there, is it?"

I looked and everyone and they looked at me with desperate plea. I didn't want to take blame if anyone got hurt, but this was the sort of riots where people don't care for other people's lives. You would basically become ants in your own town. I thought long and hard on when and how we should get there. We would have to go before the SWAT team gets past where we were. We would have to leave in pretty much any minute.

"Okay, what's the time?" I asked as I walked back onto the main street.

"Ten to twelve,".

Ten to twelve. The riots have lasted at least three hours and like Lestrade said: they don't look like they're dying down. Hollen street was five minutes up the road; to me it seemed possible.

"Okay, we're going to have to leave now," I said as he tapped Sherlock's shoulder, causing him to focus more with what is happening, "Women and children will walk in the middle; me and Sherlock will walk in the front; the rest walk in the back. Any objections?".

I took that as a no and started to walk outside of the alley and towards the side of the wall. I had one hand scrunched up into a fist while my other hand was placed firmly around the hand grip of my gun. I think Sherlock knows I carry this around with me; at times it has been proven useful. I looked behind me to see Sherlock looking at his surroundings with more caution, but something was different. It's as if he has fear in his eyes; he isn't used to seeing things like this, only what he sees on the television. I, on the other hand, have lived it. Children's eyes were protected in case shattered glass would fly at us, or to shield their eyes away from the horror of violence. The soaring heat from burning buildings grew and grew until I was choking from the smoke and my eyes started to tear up.

"How far left?" asked someone from behind me.

"Any minute now!" I shouted over the chaos.

I tried to focus more on the signs on streets to check we were going in the right direction, but my vision was buzzing. I couldn't see anything, which wasn't really useful. Sherlock tapped my shoulders and pointed towards the next street. I

"There!" he said as he pushed me forward, making me trip over broken glass.

As we sped up our pace, the chaos seemed to become even more dominant. Most of the rioters were male who were either in their teenage years or 20's. They all had their faces covered either with a hooded coat or a baseball cap. Some were laughing and some were shouting abuse to pretty much anything. It was as if the young were using the news report as a chance to cause anarchy. It was like they didn't care about the child killed in the first place. I wondered how their generation got so...messed up. First, the riots in 2011 and now this. To this day they still don't know what caused them riots. I say it was out of boredom and greed. It wasn't about trying to prove a point; it was about trying to be better than the law.

We headed around the corner up towards Hollen Street until we heard a horrific scream that made everyone stop and freeze with aversion. A woman was running towards us with bullet wounds to her legs, causing them to bleed thoroughly. One of the men ran up to her and hooker her arm around his head.

"Who did this to you?" I asked, before I realised what was coming towards us. A group of 10 hooded people a couple of miles away were running towards our group with guns at the ready. We looked in horror as we realised they were running towards us. Where could we go? I didn't know the place as much as Sherlock; I looked to him for help, but he had already found it. The warehouse that Lestrade wanted us to go to; it was sanctuary.

"Everyone inside!" we shouted as we piled into the warehouse ourselves. We pushed people in faster so the group couldn't see where we were hiding. The woman who was badly injured was the last to come in and after that, no one else. Sherlock dragged the handle towards him and closed the door shut. That was when most of the noise from outside was cut off. We stood in the silence of the darkness, waiting to either be caught or rescued; it was neither. We could hear the group join the sounds of the high street; after that the only noise that could be heard was sighs of relief. We were safe. We were in sanctuary. If it were up to me, we could have stayed in there until the riots were over. I mean, these riots can't last forever, could they?


End file.
